


My Idol

by lankyandcranky



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Blood, Blood Loss, Death, Hanahaki Disease, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Rejection, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24386263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lankyandcranky/pseuds/lankyandcranky
Summary: Hanahaki disease AU — Akaashi sees it as inappropriate to be intimate with a senior, much to Bokuto's dismay. But Bokuto is persistent, and he's going to bring his feelings across. Even if it kills him.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	My Idol

Bokuto had been coughing for a while now. They were initially very quick, just light gasps for air. But now, they were heavier, and caused him to heave every breath. It was not as painful as it was annoying. Never relenting, it only got worse day by day. 

‘Bokuto-senpai, please take care of your health. You are our wonderful captain and ace, after all.’

‘Of course I will! I won’t let you all down! I’m strong, a little cough won’t even hurt me!’

A cheery grin stretched across Bokuto’s face, as Akaashi glanced at him apprehensively. He was so simple, the littlest compliment could make his day.

But that was what made him so endearing and loveable.

‘Also, how many times have I told you to just call me Bokuto? You’re so formal, Akaashi!’

Akaashi nodded wordlessly. Contrary to Bokuto, he felt it awkward to refer to his senior with anything other than the appropriate honorific. No matter how close they were, or would become, he’d always respect Bokuto.

Everyone was always perplexed by their contrasting friendship. Akaashi was quiet, calculative, and reserved. Bokuto, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Simple-minded, sincere and boisterous, they were sun and moon beside each other. But on court, they synchronised effortlessly. They were like North and South poles of a magnet, inevitably attracting each other, impossible to be pried apart.

Bokuto was Akaashi’s light. Bokuto was everything Akaashi admired. He didn’t comprehend perfection, but Bokuto was the closest epitome he would ever admit. A glimmering senior, Bokuto was on a completely different pedestal. Akaashi would push and push, but Bokuto was always ahead of him, no matter what. But Bokuto would never gloat. He’d never laugh. Rather, he’d encourage Akaashi, aiding him every step of the way, with that blindingly bright smile of his. His heart was gold, pure gold.

‘Hey Akaashi? What do you think of my name?’

Akaashi looked up quizzically, prompting Bokuto to elaborate.

‘Keiji Bokuto; has a ring to it, no?’

Bokuto chortled at his statement, his signature laugh echoing through the hallway. But there was a subtle, underlying difference. He didn’t find what he said funny. It wasn’t a joke, and Akaashi knew it.

‘Bokuto-san, your name fits you very well. I think Akaashi fits me too. Let’s leave it at that.’ 

Akaashi’s monotonous rejection didn’t faze Bokuto one bit. It was just how he was, and the latter was prepared to be shot down. Either way, Bokuto wasn’t just going to give up that easily. He was going to let Akaashi know how much he meant to him. Eventually.

‘I’d die for you, Akaashi!’

The following weeks were filled with such comments. It wasn’t surprising, as Bokuto had always been open and affectionate. Akaashi never minded, he could never feel uncomfortable around him. He was accustomed to Bokuto’s outgoing and unabashed nature, and Akaashi was no stranger to his platonic declarations of adoration. Despite that, an anxious feeling nagged at the back of his brain, clutching tight and wavering his inherently staunch self.

Were they truly, wholly platonic?

Somehow, he wished he would never get his answer.

They were walking home, treading the path they had meandered countless times together. However, this time was different; there was something off. Some element, missing. Akaashi tentatively glanced to his side. Bokuto was there of course, strap of his bag carelessly slung over his forehead, hands shoved into his pockets, feet in a leisurely stroll. However, his iconic bubbly, enthusiastic voice was absent. He had been too quiet the entire journey, silence only occasionally punctured by his laboured coughs. Akaashi turned away, brushing off his penchant for overthinking. 

‘Akaashi, let’s go into this alley here. I wanna tell you something really important.’

Bokuto steered the both of them to the left, and Akaashi was hesitant at the surprising change, but he complied.

‘Akaashi, I love you!’

They hadn’t even walked into the alley yet.

‘Ahhh, damn! I got too excited, I couldn’t wait! The walk was too far and I just had to tell you, you’re the best person I’ve ever known. You know me so well and you’re even the perfect setter, just for me! Not like we’re going to be playing volleyball for life, but I want to be with you forever! And you know we could…’

Taken aback at the sudden sentiment, Akaashi could only stand rooted, Bokuto’s dreamy ramble washing over him. There was so much to process, so much to think about, so much to take in. Akaashi had never felt this before. This sensation of being so helplessly overwhelmed, not knowing what to do, unable to fathom the situation — he hated it.

Akaashi had always known what to do. His reactions were always quick and concise, methodical and precise. Right then and there, with his entire world just in front of him pouring out the depths of his heart, Akaashi was at a total loss. Bokuto showed no signs of backing down, and his militia of devotion relentlessly laid siege to Akaashi’s overpowered senses.

He had to put a stop to it. He couldn’t take any more.

‘I’m sorry. I can’t…’

Akaashi was cut short by a violent eruption of coughing from Bokuto. He was hunched over, eyes screwed shut, one hand roughly gripping his chest and the other clasped over his mouth. His whole frame was shivering, towering build shrunk into a little ball as he crouched over in a coughing fit. Blood began to seep in between his fingers, dripping methodically onto the asphalt beneath their feet. 

Akaashi’s curt reply to Bokuto’s heartfelt confession was the brutal catalyst for his cough to worsen exponentially. 

‘Oh my god! Bokuto! Are you okay?! What’s going on? I’ll call an ambulance!’ 

Akaashi hurriedly whipped out his mobile phone and began jamming the buttons on it, only for Bokuto to clumsily swipe it away. Shaking his head vigorously, he protested against Akaashi’s wide-eyed concern.

‘Don’t! I… I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor.’ Bokuto’s pale lips curled upwards in a gentle arch, but it was broken with another fit of hacking coughs. Petals began to escape past his lips, gently drifting downward to Akaashi’s feet, coming to rest in the little pools of Bokuto’s blood, sending subtle ripples in their wake.

Akaashi’s eyes were momentarily torn from Bokuto’s badly-disguised expression of pain, falling in tandem with the petals. The complementing disparity of the soft, mellow, pink petals against the strikingly harsh crimson was… morbidly beautiful. It tore through Akaashi that something so beautiful could come from such a place of suffering and despairing. From Bokuto.

‘Why can’t I call the ambulance? You’re in so much pain! You’re going to die like this!’ Salty droplets began falling from Akaashi’s eyes as he reached for Bokuto, trying to prop him up to rest more comfortably, a soother for his aching heart.

Only to be insistently nudged away.

‘I’ll… I’ll die then. With my feelings… for you.’

Bokuto choked harder and regurgitated more and more blood. From mesmerising droplets of shimmering deep red, it became a gruesome bloodbath. Blood was splattered everywhere, soaked into Akaashi’s clothes. The petals clung stubbornly to wherever they fell and smothered Bokuto even further. Akaashi could only stand, just out of arm’s reach, despondent and conflicted.

The blood kept falling.

The petals kept falling.

The tears kept falling.

He couldn’t do anything to save his best friend. No, he couldn’t do anything because Bokuto was his best friend. His senior. His flawless, shining idol. He could never love Bokuto unconditionally. But Bokuto’s earnest heart yearned only to love him. With everything he had.

And he would die for it.

**Author's Note:**

> just some light writing, i'm sorry this was short, i just wanted to try out the hanahaki disease trope :)  
> definitely did not write this instead of doing my actual homework  
> bokuaka is such a cute, funny ship; so let's just sprinkle in a bit of angst?  
> feel free to leave comments and/or kudos <3


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